Sorry Adam
by BintheMix
Summary: IchiRuki, AU: The old stories about Beauty And The Beast weren't helping here. No one told her the Beast was actually a Hollow, and there was no way she was a normal damsel in distress. Currently T, M later.
1. Prologue

A/N: This was inspired by Robin McKinley's 'Beauty', and I don't actually know when my head started to adapt it to Bleach, but the connection happened, and, well... Here we are.

It took a while to try and adapt Rukia's personality to Beauty – that woman is anything but submissive, so plot devices that worked in the Disney version would not work here – but I kind of sort of think that, though I've had to go more down her nobility roots, I've kind of managed to kind of get the IchiRuki banter in, and I've gotten a bit of a twist in there that no editions I've read or seen have, so it's a little more original.

I noticed when it was being written that there was a Bleach Beauty and the Beast, but I have not read it, but when I read the summary it just sounded like the Disney one, so I have in no way, shape or form plagiarised it. In fact, I should probably read it just in case there has been simultaneous brain waves...

It sounds odd, but... I've been kind of imagining Ichigo as the beast not as some hairy wolfy bear type, but as his Hollow in his fight to subdue it with the Vaizards before Hueco Mundo, so if you're not up to that part, you might want to look it up so that you see what I see... in my head.

Rukia has her hair from manga chaps 1 – 423 up until I mention when she cuts it in the story, so if you're imagining, it's shoulder length from the beginning (every fic I read at the moment, I see her with her new hair, so when the author says she puts it over her shoulder or something, I just sit there until it clicks).

This has been a really rather substantial rant, but I'd prefer to explain everything now and have less author's notes in the long run.

In terms of updating, it'll be around a fixed time. One of my all time favourite fics at the moment is updated monthly, and it drives me crazy waiting because I'm so addicted to it, so I'm thinking fortnightly – every other Sunday or Monday probably.

It's set in a medieval times, not modern times – just an fyi. I'd say Edo period or whatever, but I wouldn't want to embarrass myself because I don't actually know the Japanese times.

_Italics _are thoughts. _**Bold italics are an omniscient type narrator who speaks about canon and relates it to this AU.**_

There's a bit in here that won't appear for a few chapters in, but was inspired by honest to God the scariest episode of British sci-fi drama _Doctor Who_ ever. Except it shouldn't be scary in this (I hope). Just a bit odd at first.

Thank you for taking an interest, and I hope you enjoy :)

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><p><em><strong>There's this dream I keep having. The snow if falling as if we don't care the rain has frozen, and you're stood with me as if you don't have anywhere else to be. You don't judge me. You don't care I abandoned you. You accept me and my reasons and love me whole. And I can't stay... because I promised myself I wouldn't keep you to myself if I was keeping you from your humanity. And then you freeze. And then your face cracks. And then you don't accept me. And you never look at me again the same way you did when we said farewell. And the snow turns to rain. <strong>_

_**And I wake up. And you're not there next to me.**_

_**And suddenly waking is the nightmare. The guilt is so great I can't breathe, and I'm so scared. Of being alone. Of you being alone.**_

_**But I know I've done the right thing. Because you're safe. You're human. And that's all I could ever ask of you.**_

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><p>Whilst the maid listened through the key hole, Rukia Kuchiki took the more dignified role and listened through the very grain of the wooden door she was leaning against. Though her face portrayed no emotion, internally she was beginning to get worried. Behind this door, in the drawing room of the Kuchiki mansion, her father, Byakuya Kuchiki was learning about his future in the national army. The Captain – one of only 13 in the entirety of the military – had helped to lead their country to victory against an opposing neighbour, but Byakuya has not come away unscathed; his need for a cane was definite, whilst his position, especially as there was no longer a war to fight, was questionable.<p>

But Rukia was not stupid. She had an idea of what her situation after this meeting would be, especially as the lieutenant she knew would be a suitable match for her in her father's eyes was sat next to him, in the room before her, learning his fate.

The wind ruffled the hem of her white kimono decorated with cherry blossoms, and the pond in the centre of the courtyard she was at the edge of had frozen in the colder, winter temperatures. The maid before her shivered in the icy gusts, but Rukia herself did not flinch; winter was her favourite, preferred time. She loved the beauty associated with the snow and ice, and the cold did not seem to bother her nearly as much as anybody else she knew – perhaps with the exception of the boy Captain Toshiro Hitsugaya.

The pointlessness of her listening at the door became increasingly apparent, and, sighing, she moved down the steps into the centre courtyard that the Kuchiki mansion was designed around. She gracefully stepped to the frozen pond, stood halfway along the small wooden bridge crossing the water, and stared at the koi carp moving silently beneath the glassy surface.

She had no idea how much time passed before the sliding door snapped open and the head Captain Yamamoto emerged. She had been engulfed in her thoughts and worries – and certainties. She stayed where she was, but bowed to Yamamoto as he walked down the walkway to the exit as a lady of her breeding should, and glided as she had been taught by her elocution mistress when he was out of sight. She approached her father and bowed again.

"I have been ordered to go observe the final negotiations between Head Captain Yamamoto and the head of state from our neighbouring country" – _that was surprising_, she mused – "and when I return, we shall host a party in honour of your engagement."

She knew it. She had actually bet her lady-in-waiting Rangiku Matsumoto money that this would happen, the doubtful maid surely feeling foolish now. But as she was not tactless, she must act a submissive, clueless _woman _to these important males in her life.

"Oh? Who to, Father?" If they only knew just how clever she was.

"I have chosen the match on your behalf." But, in one way of thinking, behind every great man is a great woman.

"You shall marry my lieutenant, Renji Abarai." _But that is not a great man._

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><p>The week her father was gone felt like the longest in Rukia's life, yet, at the same time, it flew by; a week was not an exceedingly long time to plan a party when the proper rules of society had to be considered. It was, however, customary in their culture for the fiancée to completely plan the engagement party to her fiancé, as a show of proof of how good a wife she would be to her husband. If she failed at this, her future husband's image of her would be tarnished before she even step foot down the aisle.<p>

But Rukia was exceedingly clever. Her planning was second to none – her mother dying young meant that, before the war, at a very early age, she was already organising evenings on her father's behalf at which noble families attended, so her experience played to her advantage.

The complete absorption of her time also had an advantage – if she was worrying about how to not cause an incident between families just by choosing the wrong flowers to be the centre pieces of the formal dining room, she was not worrying about having to spend the rest of her life with an absolute... _baboon _like Renji Abarai. Despite her overload of work and consequential stress, the man had followed her around all week like a little lost puppy, telling her all about his varying attributes, whilst not once contributing to any of the work Rukia was struggling slightly with.

Not that she would _ever _ask for his help (_like he'd choose anything right anyway..._) , but he still proved himself to be the most annoying and unhelpful person she had ever had the displeasure to meet even before she had 'even step foot down the aisle'. If she had her way, she would have just as much right to call off the wedding if her betrothed was intolerable as Abarai had.

However, gender inequality issues was unfortunately not at the top of the list of pressing matters that the country was dealing with at the moment, and Rukia would just have to accept that her intelligence – _and artistic talent_ – would be going to waste over the years.

But right now, there was a rather serious pressing matter that Rukia was having issues getting past.

Today was Saturday, her father had been gone a week, and was expected back the night before. By this time – it had just gone 2pm – she had already sent out messengers to attempt to locate him. One on horseback had managed to do a 200 mile round trip to return with the information that he had last been seen leaving an inn with his entourage, and had not been seen since, and neither had the messenger passed them on the main road back.

The messenger contemplated whether, as they had left later than would have been suggested for them to arrive at a modest time on the Friday night, they had taken a shortcut through a forest near the inn and village they had last been seen rather than go 'round the lake to arrive back to the manor, but then quickly dismissed the idea almost as soon as he suggested it. It was a scary looking woods, in his opinion, and if he was a part of his master Byakuya's entourage, he would have insisted to Rukia's father that they should not go that way, which meant that his bringing up the subject was completely meaningless, and that, actually, he should not have said anything, as he has taken up far too much of Rukia-sama's time – he could see just how busy she was, arranging for the party – and, oh, silly him, still taking up much of her time. In fact, he'll be going for a nap now – tiring work, riding all that way – and wished her the best of luck for the party.

Her stoic face nearly cracked into one of complete and total disbelief, but she had a lot of self control, and the babbling, middle-aged rider was the absolute least of her concerns. Not only was her father not here, but she had just received word that the chef's entrees of cheese soufflés had dropped, and Abarai was still at her back, obviously worried that he would have to fight off any potential suitors in the form of well-known florists.

If she got through this night, she completely promised herself she would allow Rangiku and Momo Hinamori, another of her lady's maids, to plan her wedding. She deserved it after how magnificent tonight would be.

_At least if my father shows up..._

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><p>She sat at the head of the table in the empty formal dining room, silky, violet kimono creased, swirling her glass around and watching the burgundy wine slide around the inside. She was not angry – <em>my<em> _father would not have come for some trivial reason_ – but felt more lonely.

Which felt like pure madness, considering that not half an hour ago, this entire room was filled to the brim with nobles wearing silk kimonos, pearls, furs and diamonds, so really, she had never socialised with so many people...

Who had all left, after not seeing her father, treating it as a snub to their families.

How they would solve this she did not know, and currently she was too exhausted to care.

The silk of her deep red kimono rustled as she pulled her right leg up and held it to her chest against her white obi, not bothering with decorum, and continued to make circular motions with the stem of her wine glass. She sighed.

_My father... _Her father...

He had left her here to the dogs. They could not even make the engagement announcement without him, and, though her wit was sharp and cruel comebacks were on the tip of her tongue most of the night, she had had to let herself be patronized by arrogant, ugly middle aged men, who would not know class if it hit them in the face, no matter how ancestrally noble their family were.

It had almost killed her not to be so cruel to those men that she caused them to cry, but she did not – not for her own dignity, but for her father's. His pride meant more to him than anything, at times, she suspected more than herself.

She could no longer find it within herself to care. She had bothered with this for so many years, and she still could not escape; she now was giving herself up to becoming a baby-making machine for her father. She no longer worried because she fully now no longer cared.

She was really beginning to hate this life.

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><p>Of everybody in the entirety of the world, only two knew the real Rukia Kuchiki – the loud, arrogant, slightly-boyish tempered woman, not the demure girl her father and supposed fiancé knew her to be. These two people were her ladies maids – Rangiku Matsumoto and Momo Hinamori.<p>

Of course, they should never, ever, _ever _tell _anybody _what she was really like. A woman in Rukia's position should never act how Rukia did.

And how Rukia was acting right now was atypical of an 18 year old girl, who was scared to death but trying not to show it.

Her father had been gone for three weeks. She was inside her room, with no attention being paid to acting like a woman. She wore one of the young stable boy's pairs of pants that Rangiku had swiped for her, along with one of the loose undershirts, and her hair was held up messily with a few hair slides. She wore no make-up, and she was sat lounging on a chair underneath a window in her boudoir.

Another tear tracked down her face, and she angrily wiped it away; no matter who she was with, she was not one for showing weakness. She blew breath out slowly through her puckered mouth and concentrated on breathing calmly, not helped by that her maids were sat on a small sofa a few feet away from her, just watching Rukia gather her senses.

"I am fine, stop worrying."

Momo smiled a little. "We're not worrying. We know it'll be fine."

"You cannot know that."

Rangiku sighed, with a small, concealed chuckle. "Yes, we can."

The youngest girl shook her head in inconsolable disagreement. More tears fell, and she closed her eyes in an attempt to stop the flow. This time, Rukia sighed in another attempt to calm down, this one a little more fruitful.

"What will happen... If he does not return? If he has been reunited with Hisana?"

"... I don't know, Rukia."

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><p>One month to the day that he left, Byakuya returned, with his entourage in tow.<p>

All looked worse for wear as they arrived outside the Kuchiki mansion, the horses' hooves making the only imperfections in the freshly laid snow, some lone flakes still falling from the grey sky. The entire staff lined up outside the mansion to greet their returned master, relief on some faces, cold, trained masks on others.

Rukia had her mask on, her red kimono and purple obi contrasting with her diamond glinting surroundings. She watched as her father did not even search for her in the small crowd, only got down from his horse and immediately walked inside. Her head followed him until he was out of sight, and then snapped down to her clasped hands, eyes fighting to show emotion in their murky violet depths. The stress was apparent from the bags in her eyes, but her posture would not betray her. She sensed a presence approaching her, and looked up to see her fiancé approach her, and offer her his arm, which she accepted, and was escorted back into the warmth.

And directly into her father's study.

She did not know why, but she felt nervous. Her palms began to sweat, and she could hear her heartbeat in her eyes. She seated herself in a chair facing the mahogany desk Byakuya was sat behind, and waited.

It took him a few minutes to begin, as he shuffled through neglected paperwork, but when he did, he spoke doing something he rarely ever did – he look directly into Rukia's eyes.

He spoke of a castle, grounds, beauty, a slightly more western-influenced culture than she was used to.

He told her of a monster who turn into a man the day of, before and after a full moon before returning to the monster form. He spoke of the servants there, the beauty of the palace, the shackles that held him as the man once again became a monster.

He did not apologise for his grave mistake that would see her leave for who knows how long. He paid no attention to his horrified lieutenant. He did not take into account how stoic Rukia's face was.

He simply asked his late wife for forgiveness at her shrine that night, and prepared for her journey to the beast's castle the next morning.

There was nothing he could do to save her anyway.

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><p>When I watched episode 342, I cried the whole way through, and for 3 hours afterwards until I was ill. That's how sad I thought it was. Just to let you know.<p> 


	2. Chapter 1

A/N: You have no idea how many times I went over this and tweaked and edited and redrafted it until I was happy it flowed well. Too much of a perfectionist sometimes...

Couple notes at the end, any questions then message me and I'll get back to you within the day, review please! So many favourites and alerts though, thank you all :))

Word count: 4,715

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><p><em><strong>I'm so scared you won't like my hair.<strong>_

_**Not the actual hair style, obviously, but what it represents.**_

_**What if you liked it before? When it was just a little longer than my shoulders and did the flippy thing that no amount of hair serum could control? When I was a couple inches shorter, my chest was a little flatter and I looked just a little more like your little sisters?**_

_**God, I've over thought this. But you've gotten older, and I feel a little older... And nothing's going to be the same. Because of my stupid hair. **_

_**But it was good for me. Because I've never cut my hair before, not even after Kaien. It was more of a way for me to get over whatever this was emotionally than having my own Britney Spears moment.**_

_**... I really hope you like my hair. And I really hope this girl who just happens to have almost the exact name as me whose ass I'm about to kick for turning me into a plushie doll that is unidentifiable as a specific animal (and who is crazy to think a cabinet is cute – it's a piece of furniture) isn't your girlfriend.**_

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><p>Rukia Kuchiki was sat on the roof of the mansion. Despite clearing away some snow before she sat down, the roof itself was pretty uncomfortable even when it was not frozen, and the night air temperature was dropping further; she was beginning to freeze underneath her thin, white, loosely tied robe, and her neck had goose pimples from her hair being tied up. She did not care though, it was her last night at home, and she'd be damned if she wasn't going to see the moon for the last time before it was apparently covered up by the forest surrounding her new abode.<p>

She huffed a breath out, and could see it rise up before her, her body warmer than her surroundings. She was scared, but she was _not _going to admit it to anyone. She was going to live with a beast tomorrow, but she was a Kuchiki. She would walk into that castle like she fucking _owned _the place because that's what she did. It's what she was good at.

She closed her eyes as a migraine began to pound on the inside on her skull and leaned backwards using her hands behind her as support.

"Someone looks stressed."

She didn't open her eyes as she felt herself be joined on either side by two other bodies of people she knew well. The one on her right placed a thick blanket over her shoulders whilst the other gently pulled her feet onto their lap and put them in a pair of slippers.

"I am, a little. But is that not to be expected?" Rukia responded, opening her eyes, and staring at the moon.

"To be honest, if I were you, I'd be running around like a headless chicken," Rukia looked to her right to see Rangiku swallow the glass of sake she had been holding and filling it with more from a bottle she had stashed inside her kimono.

"Nice imagery, Ran-chan," Momo sniggered, smiling laughingly at Rukia when she turned to her.

"Thanks, honey."

Rukia scoffed, shaking her head, and looked back up at the moon. "I do _not _know how I am going to cope without you two."

Momo drew her into a tight hug. "You'll be fine... wherever you are... whoever you're- erm, _what_ever you're with, if you ever have a chance to escape, we'll be right here when you get back."

"That means a lot Momo."

"And if you're not marrying Renji, can I have him?"

"Of course you can, Rangiku."

"Good to know."

There was a soft, collective sigh as the three girls stared up at the moon once again.

"... I really hope this monster guy doesn't eat you."

Abruptly, in retaliation at the comment, Rukia stood and made her way back down the roof to her room, a little more scared than she had been 10 seconds earlier. "Thank you for that."

"You're welcome!"

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><p>"Your two ladies maids and Renji Abarai will be escorting you to the castle. I have business to attend to, so I am not able to go with you myself. When I was at residence there, I saw a face who shall also be familiar to you; Kisuke Urahara. Treat the nobleman with respect."<p>

"Yes, father."

"Be aware, they are more used to a... _western _kind of life there. It should not be surprising to you to be requested to dress and act in such a manner, which I am sure will be taught to you by the maids. Some characteristics of life there may seem alarming immediately, but do not let this be conveyed. Remember your heritage.

"Lastly, do not feel obligated to make any decisions that it appears they are influencing you to make."

Rukia looked up into her father's eyes, not something she often did, in surprise, whilst attempting to pull that one stray lock behind her ear. "What do you mean, father?"

It almost looked like he had a knowing smirk on his face for half a second before the Kuchiki stone was placed back.

"You shall soon see."

Byakuya gestured for a stable boy to help her upon her horse, the male she had had since she was young, a light brown named 'Sode No Shirayuki', and she gracefully climbed on, managing to make sure no skin was on show underneath the black kimono with silver obi she had adorned, the Kuchiki crest embroidered onto the sleeves.

"Goodbye, father."

"Good luck."

He turned, and without another glance, walked back into their house, knowing smile going unawares.

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><p>"We would have had a good life together, you and I."<p>

They had been riding through the forest for hours that seemed like days, and Rukia felt as if Renji had yet to stop speaking. Reminiscing about a childhood she was certain he had dreamt about, seeing as she didn't become a noble until she was 10 years old, considering the marriage that had never come about, even at one point musing over the children they could have had together – and that he had promptly stopped talking about to offer Rangiku some water, when she had hastily tried to cover her laughter with an exaggerated coughing fit.

"Indeed, we would have."

"Despite all this, I would like for us to part ways as friends, Rukia," Renji looked at Rukia with an expression of graciousness, as if he were presenting her with a great gift. "I would also like you to be aware that, if you return before I chose another, I will gladly have you back as my fiancée, and then my wife."

"How good of you, Renji." Rukia stared resolutely ahead at the path before them, worrying that if she looked at him, her noble composure would break and she would fall off her horse in a fit of laughter. As it was, a smirk was pulling at her lips and her stomach was bubbling.

They rode in silence for a while longer, save for the horses' hooves and Rangiku and Momo's quiet muttering – no doubt last minute worrying about her – when it occurred to Rukia that this could be her last opportunity for some real information.

"Renji, I must ask. Do you know the reason for my father sending me here?" She was using her fake, shrilly, high voice, that she resolutely hated, but that all men seemed to melt at.

"Your father told me it was as payment for having him and his men remain in his castle for awhile," Renji answered, buying the buttery, fake speech.

"Does it not seem like a rather steep payment for a few nights in a huge castle where they could not have possibly troubled this monster if it was really as big as they claim?"

"I am merely repeating what your father told me. You would do better than to question him, Rukia. He is a trustworthy man."

Rukia nodded, and faced the road yet again. This man was even more stupid than she originally thought if he believed that ridiculous excuse.

"But... he and his advisors were speaking of it last night as I was leaving, and I did happen to catch a few of their words."

Okay... maybe not as useless as he could have been.

"And... what did they say?" It took Rukia a lot of effort not to sound as eager as she was to know.

"Just that you and he would suit each other well."

"He who?" she asked, a little too quickly.

Renji sniggered before turning to her to answer. "Why, the monster, of course. Which other he is there?"

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><p>"And this is where we leave you."<p>

The gates were looming in the darkness, the sun behind them, in the progress of setting. Ahead, all that it seemed to be was night. There wasn't even any snow here to reflect light; they'd lost that when they had gotten past the first few trees of the forest surrounding them.

"Very well."

Rukia, Rangiku and Momo dismounted whilst Renji stayed upon his horse, and the three girls converged in a small circle.

"Stay safe."

"Don't get killed."

"If you get really scared, try and escape."

"If you ever get the chance to visit, we'll be right at home, waiting for you."

The farewells were brief, and it felt more like a goodbye forever than for a while. Rukia had a feeling that they believed this was the last time they would see her.

She took a deep breath, and said all that she need to. "Get married and have lots of babies for me."

They both grinned at her, Rangiku with sadness in her eyes and Momo with tears running down her cheeks. She pushed them around and away from her, waited for them to mount, and smiled in return to Renji's final nod of respect. She watched and waved by the gates until they were long out of sight.

By now, the sun had fully set, and she was alone.

Sode neighed, and nudged her shoulder, as anxious as she. She petted his nose a little, and whispered some comforting words in his ear, then pulled on his reins, tugging him closer to the gates. He did not hesitate, but his eyes were swinging around madly, on the lookout for any kind of danger.

Rukia did not immediately understand why until she herself looked at the gates; she could have sworn that they had been closed when she had approached them, but now they were being held open by two unmoving, well armoured statues. They looked like they had not moved in centuries... But she could have bet money they had not been there when she arrived.

Rukia took a quick stock of her surroundings before accounting it to distraction, and cautiously made her way through the archway, horse a couple steps behind her. She came to a fork that split into three directions, and could just make out the outline of a stable along the right path, which she took. She methodically set Sode up inside one of the stalls, desperate not to let her mind wander in her surroundings; she could barely see 3 feet in front of her, stuck in total darkness.

Breathing a little more deeply in an attempt to calm her erratic pulse, she left her horse behind her, and returned back down the path she had come from, and approached the fork once again, taking the path that lead straight ahead this time, a thin outline of a huge building drawn out before her. She walked for a little while, passing by perfectly sculptured lands and gardens until she found herself upon the entrance to the castle, her nerves tipping on the edge by this point. Her original plan of entering as if she was already mistress was far from her mind; she had never been anywhere as intimidating as this. The doors ahead of her were at least 10 times taller than her diminutive height, and the castle walls spread out on either side as far as she could see, decorated often with windows that were blacked out from the drawn curtains on the insides.

The only reason she could find eventually to go through the great, carved wood doors were the angry noises made by her stomach in protest at the lack of food. However, they were not closed as she was sure they had been when she had first seen them, and her attention then drawn away to the appearance of the rest of the castle; these were suddenly also being held open by statues.

Deciding a lack of food was at blame for these mad delusions, she went through the double doors and was just about to try and make out the completely black surroundings when there was a slam behind her.

The doors had closed, and the two statues that had previously been holding it open were now on either side of it.

Which just about made them the creepiest things ever.

Reluctant to turn away from them, she slowly drew herself back around to the pitch black hall – which had suddenly had its chandelier and candelabra lighted.

Rather than dwell on how they had been lighted – she figured if something had wanted to kill her, it would have by now – she took in her surroundings.

Her father wasn't kidding when he had said it was a more western culture than she was used to; there was no tatami here, only white and black marble floors and what looked to be hand painted wallpaper. The chandelier was golden, and though darkened, if it was lighter Rukia would have been able to see the painting on the ceiling more clearly. As it was, the noble woman already felt out of place among the gold tarnished walls and gorgeous rugs, the central sweeping staircase extending ahead of her and splitting into two on either side of the hall on the upper floor.

A particular painting caught her eye to the left of the grand hall, and she walked gracefully to where it stood over an ornate wooden table, lighted candles making the portrait look more like a vigil.

The picture was of a young man – very young. Younger than even Rukia – fifteen, maybe? – but who was beginning to gain a more mature face. His bone structure was striking, his nose was straight and his lips were fully. But it was his amber eyes she could barely look away from...

At least, until she realised what colour the hair teasing his upper eyelashes was.

She bit her lip to stop a laugh escaping, and her face contorted into one of incredulity. The hair was a ridiculously bright orange. Just like the fruit.

Possibly brighter.

Rukia was reminded of a time when Rangiku had accidentally slept in her blonde hair dye and had woken up to find it orange – but it was still nowhere near as neon coloured as this boy's.

She tried once again to be absorbed by his beautiful eyes, but was way too distracted by the hair, when she was suddenly saved from being torn between swooning and amusement when she heard a huge creak. Directly across from her, to the right of the entrance doors, one of a pair of double doors had been opened by a statue from before.

Unnerved but determined not show it, Rukia walked across the hall to the door; she didn't have much choice by the time she got there – considering she felt like she hadn't eaten in months and the smell coming from it was amazing.

After what felt like a 5 minute walk from one side of the hall to the other, she found that the door that had been opened for her lead to the dining room (rather obviously, once she thought about it).

At first, she took note of the table, tiny compared to the grandeur of the room, but still a gorgeous little thing, a beautiful almost red mahogany piece with gold trimmings and little hand painted decorations, covered almost to the brim in food.

And then she noticed the partially opened door half way down the wall to the right, a normal sized one in comparison to the other huge ones, that she wouldn't even have noticed if it hadn't been opened, with a statue – this one female – holding it open with her foot, whilst her hands held a large, ornate silver bowl with what looked like mashed potato in it.

Alarmed, Rukia looked around the room to discern whether there were any others, when she heard footsteps and a repeated "sorry, sorry, sorry..." under the other woman's breath. By the time Rukia, who felt as though she had been frozen, turned back around, the statue had gone, the door closed, and the creamy potato left on the only remaining gap on the table.

Fear was something Rukia did not often feel; she certainly wasn't feeling it now either. She was just too hungry. Still looking around herself in a paranoid manner, she sat at the table, and ate.

Within the first bite of what she was pretty sure was beef stew, warming her up when she hadn't even realised she was cold from the bitter winter outside, the fire she hadn't noticed before bringing feeling back into her freezing toes, she did not pay any attention to her surroundings. She simply ate for an extended period of time.

Eventually, after eating more than she thought she ever had before, her other senses returned to her, and fear began to settle in her stomach with her dinner for the first real time. She was considering why she possibly would have been fed; she worried she would be eaten herself in turn by this unknown monster she had been left with.

She stood from the table, leaving her napkin on her empty plate as her etiquette teacher had taught her, and made her way back out to the hall.

At a complete loss at what to do next, Rukia was about to embarrass herself thoroughly by walking around yelling "hello!" in a clichéd, echo-y manner when she heard a whisper to her left: "I'd go up the stairs and take the doors to the left if I were you."

She flipped around, her stomach dropping like a stone, but could not identify the speaker – until she looked to her left. The statue was still holding open one of the doors to dining room, but now had changed its position ever so slightly.

It was winking at her.

Finally acknowledging that the statues were not as stationary as she had originally hoped, one of her eyes twitched as she looked at the one that had spoken, using her impressive glare to dare it to speak again. Sadly for her ego, it did not. She did however take its advice, and went up the beautiful marble centre staircase, taking the left hand stairs when she had the opportunity, and entering the new set of corridors.

She walked for what could have been minutes, or hours. She did not see any windows during her journey, and had no sense of time; a clock would have been useless to her anyway, she had not known the time since she left her home that morning. She walked until her feet in her traditional shoes ached, until the sweat made her kimono stick to her back, and tendrils of hair escaped her intricate up-do. Only certain lights on the walls were lit, so she felt like she was following Hansel and Gretel's trail of breadcrumbs. Here and there she saw pictures on the walls, some of the same boy she'd seen in the hall, a few of him alone, others surrounded by what looked like his family. Time went on, and the more tired she became, the more she began to see things. She began to stop at pictures, and thought she recognised the scene from a memory locked away in the back of her mind, but only ever looked at them for a little more than a few seconds before passing on, too exhausted to pay full attention.

Eventually, the trail of lights ended at a long corridor, and she found a pair of double doors had been opened for her at the end of it. Caution thrown to the wind, she went inside and found herself in a bedroom. It had been designed for her, she could see, as she took a few steps in. Only the wall behind her did not have windows in it, the rest showed her that she was right at the end of a wing, and each had a small pair of glass doors framed with white doors that lead out to a balcony that stretched right the way around her room. The curtains framing the windows were violet, the floor was a gorgeous cream carpet that her feet sunk into even with her shoes on, but the main attraction she could see was the bed. It was set in the wall across from her, four posters, the same colour curtains on the frame, the white wood beautifully carved, inviting white sheets with a warm looking champagne silk comforter over it. Blearily tired, she barely had the strength to take off her shoes and collapse on top the sheets – clothes still on and hair tied up – before sleep took her.

* * *

><p>When she woke up, her first thought was that it was pitch black. It took her a few seconds to realise that the curtains had been pulled around her bed whilst she slept, the blanket pulled on top of her, her hair taken out of its restrictive knot and brushed, and only the white, bottom layer of her kimono was still on her. She sat up, removed the blanket, pulled back the blackout curtain and put her feet on the ground. It was still dark outside, but the moon gave it some light. She felt drowsy as she walked to the doors a few feet away from her bed and pulled the latch on one of them, going out onto the balcony and leaning over.<p>

The garden below looked ethereal. It had snowed whilst she had slept; everything since had been covered with snow, reflecting the light from the moon to give her a perfect view of her surroundings. Ahead of her was a gorgeous pond that looked like it went on for so long to the point she wondered if it was a lake, frozen and glacial, and there were flowers and trees she had never seen before, icicles hanging from branches but flowers still in bloom peaking above the snow fall. Beyond the frosty lake, she could see white fields, and no wall to restrict them. Soft flakes were still falling from above her in hypnotic swirls; the moon looked through a gap in the white clouds. The air was biting at her. Though it was beautiful, the temperature was bringing her down from her sleepy haze, and she shivered a little, her stomach muscles tightening in response. She walked, barefooted, from the door to the edge of the balcony running around the outside of her room to the waist-high wall to better see the details.

Then she noticed the figure sat at the edge of the pond, about 50 feet away from her.

She immediately felt magnetized toward it. Without considering how or why she knew where they were, her feet moved to her right until she found steps leading down to the garden level. Nothing else occupied her mind until she had walked across the snowy grass barefooted and reached her captor. She stood within arm's reach of him, but did not make another move.

It was stood at the very edge of the water; she found that closer, the body was that of a human's with an unnatural covering, a human male. He looked towards her, and she saw the terrible monster she knew had been told about. His skin was white bone with red outlines, his hair was long and down his back, a colour that was dimmed in the white glow from the moon, he had horns protruding from his head and he had to be at least 2 feet taller than her.

She took all this in calmly, until she looked into his eyes. The moment violet met amber, she was hypnotized.

And then she passed out.

* * *

><p>"That could've gone better."<p>

"Fuck you, Ishida."

He had managed to catch her at the very last second before she had hit the ground, and was now holding her rather awkwardly, not quite holding her whole weight, and still crouched on the ground, his left arm around her.

"Are you not going to pick her up?"

"I was getting to it."

He hesitated for a second more, worried for her reaction, then hooked his right arm beneath her knees, and kept his left supporting her back, unconsciously holding her closer to him than he originally intended.

He looked at his companion in distress.

"You don't have a clue what to do, do you, Kurosaki?"

"To be honest, I was expecting a screaming fit. That's what any other girl would've done."

"Fainting is still pretty damsel in distress-like."

"I've seen a faint. Yuzu fainted the first time she saw me like this. That wasn't a faint. That was passing out."

"What's the difference?"

"Yuzu's was from shock. This is a defence mechanism to cope with too much new information."

"Which makes her..."

"... Different."

The one named Ishida scoffed, and pushed his glasses up. "When did you get so corny?"

"When did you get so creepy? Dropped on your head too many times as a baby?" he countered.

"I am not the creepy one holding a girl that I've never met before in this situation. Which brings us back to the point: what are you going to do with her?"

"Uhh..."

He was saved by a figure leaning over the balcony that led from the new girl's room.

"Kurosaki-kun! If you put her back to bed, she'll sleep better!"

He turned back to Ishida again. "See? I'm going to put her back to bed."

"Good for you."

He shot his friend a look from over his shoulder as he carried the girl in his arms back to her bedroom.

The room already smelt of her from her few hours of hibernation beneath the silky sheets on the bed. He laid her upon the quilts that the maid had set to rights, and used this as his first opportunity to properly scrutinise her.

Her form reeked of tradition; she was sleeping, but she already looked like she had a pole constantly stuck up her ass – no surprise there, considering her father was exactly the same – and her face was pinched in discomfort.

She was still the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.

He carefully pulled the covers over her, navigating his claws in the process, and watched the pinched expression relax as she warmed from the freezing temperatures outside.

He stood upright and watched a little longer, lost in the pink lips and individual eyelashes in her porcelain face until the maid – Orihime Inoue, one of the ones who had been with him from the very beginning, who had been the obvious choice for this job – quietly but audibly closed the patio door behind him.

"Don't. I'm going back outside." He told her over his shoulder. She smiled in return, opened the door a little, and pulled the curtains around the sleeping girl as he took a step away from her, blocking his view. Orihime wished him a good night, and went to retire, a sleepy but gleeful smile on her face as she left to go to her quarters.

He stayed a little longer, the absolute silence outside of the room allowing him to hear Rukia's soft breathing even through the material barriers, until he was satisfied, and left silently through the door back out to the garden, closing it behind him.

He spent the night guarding his new found jewel, whose name he did not even know yet.

* * *

><p>AN: I'm still not happy with this, so I'll probably go over it in a few months.

I was originally going to do Ichigo as a hollow when he's fighting the Vizards (vaizards? vizards?), but had not fully realised the implications of this, and so I've switched to what now seems like a much more obvious route of choosing Ichigo to be like he is when fighting Ulquiorra... Which, yes, now seems ridiculous that I didn't think of that in the first place.

I'm doing a lot of coursework and revision right now (screw you, Shakespeare.) so I'm bumping updates to once a month until about half way through January, as then resits and work will be handed in, and I'll go back to the original plan of every other week. I'd like to do it like that - it's just not possible at this moment. Sorry.

I hope everybody has a good November! Till next time :)


	3. Chapter 2

Guess who finished their A-levels?

And has a gap yah before uni?

And will be updating so often you'll get sick of them?

...

I hope to have a lovely year with you all, and will let you know next chapter when to expect updates once I settle into a routine.

If everyone's OOC it's probably because I haven't read Bleach since early May because of exams and everything's a bit skewed in my head. Sorry.

Enjoy.

* * *

><p>"Is she awake yet?"<p>

Ishida smirked at his master's impatience.

"How should I know? Nobody has been in here to update me on your new girlfriend's sleeping situation since you last asked 3 minutes ago." He continued with his business paperwork, a snigger still under his breath.

"She's not my girlfriend." Ishida chuckled, and Ichigo sighed, loudly, just to annoy his partner, and tried once again to focus upon the numbers on the pieces of paper in front of him, but ended up merely looking around the surroundings of his study, unable to concentrate.

A few minutes later, he opened his mouth again, only to be stopped from continuing almost immediately.

"Stop. I don't know. I don't have some kind of mental link to her that lets me know exactly when she wakes up just to satisfy your perverse obsession."

"Fuck you, Uryuu."

There was silence for a few more moments.

"Do you think she'll be scared of me?"

"If I were you, Kurosaki, I'd be wondering if she even remembers you, considering she was half asleep when she saw you and then passed out immediately after."

Ichigo's eyes bugged out of his head, visible behind his mask. "Oh, yeah. Shit."

* * *

><p>The first thing Rukia comprehended when she woke up was the smell of something foreign but heavenly.<p>

Her violet eyes began to open, and she blinked several times as her eyes adjusted to the light. The curtains had been pulled back from both around her bed and the windows, letting sunlight stream into her bedroom, reflecting off the white painted walls and making the soft gold materials decorating her bed glow. A glimmer caught her eye, which she discovered to be from the chandelier above. Rukia increasingly felt out of her depth; the western idea of glamour and luxury was different from her traditional eastern way of life, this seeming more flamboyant and decadent. The massive culture shock, made especially obvious in this bright light, was making her head spin.

All of a sudden, the smell that had drawn her upright in bed made itself obvious to her; a little table, a gorgeous gold-finished wood, with a matching chair and cushion, had a plate of steaming something and a teapot and cup.

She pulled herself from her beautifully comfortable bed and went to investigate. She sat on the chair, and surveyed the contents of the plate. She'd been too tired to realise the night before when she'd been presented with food that even what she had been expected to eat was a massive change from her usual. Even the tea she poured herself was nothing like what she knew tea to be at home. Spurred on by the gorgeous smell and the rumbling in her stomach that had chosen this moment to make itself known, she picked up a fork – a relatively unknown utensil to her, considering she'd only ever used chopsticks up until the night before – and began to eat.

"Good morning, Kuchiki-san!"

Her fork paused halfway to her mouth.

"Isn't it beautiful out? It's so bright because of the snow! I just wish we could open a window or a door in here, but you'd catch your death of cold! How are the pancakes? I told the chef he should have put something you'd be more comfortable with on them until you got used to them! I suggested wasabi paste, but he didn't seem to want to..."

For a moment, that there was another strange woman in the room with her was eclipsed by the horrific idea of the spicy paste on the sweet pancakes.

The woman's voice continued talking about food as Rukia continued to be unmoving, eyes wide. She gathered herself after the initial shock, and turned slowly around.

The talking stopped abruptly as Rukia saw the stone statue of a beautiful young woman frozen in the act of rearranging the disarrayed bed sheets that Rukia had paid no attention to in her curiosity to find the source of the smell. Her mouth was even stuck mid-speech.

Panicking a little, Rukia turned back around to the table, hands held awkwardly above the table.

"You could give me some warning before you turn around you know! What if I'd been holding a tray of hot drinks and they'd fallen out of my hand and splashed all over me? I'd be in so much pain! But then again, I could have gotten Ishida-kun to cover my burns in cream, so it wouldn't have been all bad!"

Rukia stared dumbfounded at the reflection of the woman moving in the glass. "Eh... Excuse me?"

The slightly blurry figure paused in the pane. "Yes, Kuchiki-san?"

"How did you do that?"

"Do what?"

"Turn to stone."

Rukia heard a sharp intake of breath, and the figure she could see still did not move.

"Kuchiki-san, has no one else been into see you yet other than me?"

"No."

"...Oh."

"Is that wrong?"

She saw the woman in the reflection wave her hands in front of her in a panicky manner. "No, no no no! I'm sure it's fine! I'm sure they meant for it to be this way!"

"... I do not understand."

Rukia saw the figure walk closer to her from behind.

"Kuchiki-san, I turn to... turn to stone when an unaffected human looks at me."

"What? Why?"

She sighed. "Because of the spell put on us by the wizard traitor before he left. It's a long story, really, and I'm not the one to tell it, so I don't really want to try. I know this seems really odd," she laughed nervously. "I mean, you've just gotten here and I'm telling you that I'll turn to stone if you look at me. It's ridiculous really!"

Rukia was silent, back completely straight facing the maid, staring at her food.

"I've drawn you a bath in your wet room, since you didn't have a chance to wash when you got here last night, so you can do that after you've eaten, and I'll prepare your hair and find you clothes for the day." Rukia heard footsteps and saw the figure in the window move towards the door.

"You are leaving?"

She could hear the smirk in the maid's voice. "Somebody has to tell the master you're awake."

* * *

><p>The bath was amazing; it smelt of lavender and vanilla, and the bubbles reached her chin even when she was sat with her back straight. Her head was resting against the side and her wet hair was slicked against her skull. There was no noise, and the lighting came only from a few candles, the door blocking out the sun streaming through her windows.<p>

Nothing could ruin the serenity.

Until something really, really did.

"NEEEEE-SAN!"

Her head went up so quickly her neck cricked audibly, and she let out a rarely uttered profanity at the sudden stabbing pain: "Fuck!" She slid a little awkwardly against the tub as she tried to identify the noise, attempting to use her arms on the top of the bath as leverage, and its source became obvious as she heard bubbles from beneath the water. A vein popping angrily in her forehead, she pulled whatever-it-was from under the bubbles, ready to scream blue murder. Her anger was not stopped by her surprise at the talking cat that looked suspiciously like a tiny lion with its fluffy mane and blonde-red fur. "What the _hell _do you think you are doing?" her voice had a lethal edge to it.

Being held by the scruff of its neck, the wet cat-lion held its paws defensively in front of its face. "I'm sorry nee-san! Please forgive me so that I may once again rest in the valley of the Gooooods!" It made an attempt to reach her breasts, and despite her usual fondness for cute animals, was thrown against the opposite wall of her black marble wet room on instinct, its wet fur making it slide down slowly.

As it mumbled dramatically to itself about the perils of life whilst creating a puddle of bath water and bubbles on the floor, she used the diversion as an opportunity to hop out of the bath and cover herself quickly with a fluffy white towel folded neatly by the edge of the tub, another towel wrapped around her hair. Feeling a lot more secured, she turned her attention back to the cat... who was currently managing to stand like a human, producing a barrage of tears and begging for her forgiveness.

By the point, Rukia was pretty certain she'd gone insane. She had had a crazy dream about a monster, her maid had told that when she looks at her she turns to stone, and now a cat with human characteristics – particularly of a perverted nature – was attacking her chest.

She collapsed on her bed, still wet and wrapped in her towel, completely adamant that she was still dreaming, or that her food had been drugged.

Now she just needed her father's head attached to a pink elephant to walk through the door, and the scenario would be complete.

* * *

><p>"She's awake, Kurosaki-kun!"<p>

Ishida smirked at the man in question as he feigned disinterest, continuing to do the paperwork for a business deal. "Good for her."

Inoue's bright smile faltered a little, and her shoulders sagged a bit. "I thought you were waiting to know, Kurosaki-kun?"

"No, I err... wasn't that interested."

"Oh. Well, I'll be showing her around the castle in a little while, I thought you'd want to know in case you wanted to have a stroll yourself. See you later!"

The bubbly maid left, and there was a little more silence, before Uryuu once again took the piss. "You have an absolute _obsession _with your image. It'd be pathetic if I didn't find it so funny."

Ichigo sighed loudly and leant back in his chair. "Just fuck right off, Ishida."

He just sneered. "Hoping to make a bigger impact on your new girlfriend's psyche than you did last night?"

"She's not my girlfriend."

Ichigo swore he could hear the smirk in that little bastard's voice. "And she never will be if you keep messing with her sanity either."

The masked man stood up abruptly, violently knocking over his chair in the process, stood and stamped his way moodily out of the study. "Get your ass to the training hall, you Quincy bastard. I'm going to beat the crap out of you."

Ishida followed him with more dignity. "Of course you are."

* * *

><p>Rukia was twirling an unidentified white flower in her hands when Orihime returned. It was from a tiny branch off a tree that was poking through a window on the east side of her bedroom, and was perfectly bloomed when she'd plucked it. As she'd been sat at her dressing table in just the dressing gown she'd found in the ridiculously huge wardrobe, the white petals of the blossom had already began to wilt.<p>

"Hello again, Kuchiki-san!"

Rukia kept her eyes trained to the bud as she replied, not wanting to cause any bother by looking up and turning the servant to stone. "Good morning again, Orihime."

"How was your bath?" she asked as she toyed with the still slightly damp tresses of her new mistress.

"Excellent, until _that _interrupted it."

Orihime was confused until she followed where Rukia was pointing to; Kon, the perverted, talking cat – under an even more annoying spell than herself – who actually looked like a minute lion was tied to a leg of one of the chairs at Rukia's breakfast table, his mouth shut by a length of duct tape that Orihime didn't understand where she'd managed to get from. It was performing its job well though, for all his squirming the cat couldn't make a noise.

"What did he do?"

"Tried to get in the bath with me."

"Ah." He looked pleadingly at the maid. "Kon's harmless really. At least it's not as bad as when he had a human body, I have to say."

Rukia stiffened a little. "He was human?"

"Yeah."

"Hmm... I am lucky I wasn't here for that then."

Orihime let out a giggle, which Rukia followed, unwittingly letting her eyes flash to her new lady in waiting in the mirror in front of the dressing table, and immediately moved her eyes again.

Then, the woman's eyes bugged, and flicked back to the maid; she didn't turn to stone.

Evidently, Orihime had noticed, judging by the huge grin she was sporting. "Well... would you look at that."

And that was how they discovered that looking at reflections did not change the cursed into stone.

"I thought I would show you around the castle, if that's agreeable with you," Orihime suggested, as she finished pulling on the corset strings of the cerise coloured silk gown Rukia was sporting after she discovered the complete lack of kimono within her clothing options; it had taken her a long time to discover a dress that did not reveal too much of her bust, and even this was a little too inappropriate for her taste. In her native land, a woman's sexual appeal would be seen by displaying the back of her neck, and Rukia was sure that this idea was the opposite here – one dress, described by her maid as having a sweetheart neckline, dipped to the centre of her bust, for heaven's sake!

"Of course; I must press however, I am still at a loss as to why I am here."

"You won't be soon." Orihime finished tying, and patted Rukia's back to signal she was done. "After I've shown you around, I can bring you back here for riding clothes and you can take your horse out if you want."

Rukia stood and walked to her door, smiling slightly. "That would be nice."

Orihime opened the door for her, and led her new mistress down corridors, obviously knowing a route that Rukia was at a complete loss as to how she would learn, and kept her head bowed to the floor so she did not turn her maid to stone. "I caught a glimpse of her last night – she's absolutely gorgeous! Such a pure white, I'd never seen anything like it!"

This time, Rukia's smile was full-blown. "Her name is Sode No Shirayuki, but I just call her Sode. She's beautiful, but she can be a little of a pain sometimes... "

"I know, but all animals can... I mean look at Kon-" She took a sharp intake of breath. "I forgot about Kon! I'll be right back, I just need to release him!" When Rukia nodded her head in consent, Orihime picked up her skirts in what Rukia thought a rather undignified manner from the corner of her eye, and ran back the way they had came.

A minute or so of waiting later, Rukia scrutinised the walls around her, covered in paintings; most were typical of a rich manor, though Rukia was still unfamiliar with the style. Many were portraits, or depictions of landscapes, until one caught her eye.

It was the same orange-haired stranger she had encountered in paintings the night before, though he seemed ever so slightly older than the one she had seen in the entrance hall. His jaw seemed more defined, his cheekbones solid, his body obviously more taut and muscled, but it was his hair that made the biggest impact: it was still the same ridiculous orange colour, but he seemed to have grown into it now. It had lengthened quite a lot, almost to below his eyes, and yet that amber still pierced her through the strands...

'_This is absurd,'_ she couldn't help but think to herself, _'getting excited over a painting of a man who is probably dead and buried by now. Get over yourself.'_

"So, I see you've noticed the master then." Orihime had returned.

Rukia's eyes stayed trained on the gold framed canvas, complimenting the dark wood panelling of the windowless walls. "The master?"

"Yes," Orihime's face held a sly grin, and she walked to stand immediately to Rukia's left side. "He doesn't look _quite _like that anymore, but he's still one of the most handsome men in the world underneath it all."

"He has aged?"

"I guess you could say that." Her grin did not waver, and she began to lead Rukia down the corridors once again.

The rest of their morning was spent observing the varying features of the castle. Every room was breath-taking, and, though not one thing familiar to her traditional Japanese roots, she still found she could enjoy it just as much as a room furnished in a recognizable manner. There were silk drapes, mahogany desks, paintings filled with illustrations of the young man and his family, and even the odd servant she passed who had their head bowed, completely frozen marble. She was led through drawing rooms and morning rooms, family rooms and sitting rooms, painting rooms (which she was especially excited by) and music rooms, until finally,

"I'm sorry, my lady, but the master is training downstairs at the moment, so I cannot show you around."

Rukia's eyebrow quirked visibly as she stared at the door; it was the same, almost red, mahogany as so many others she had seen, but this was more... _worn_... there were violent slashes in the wood that had obviously been carved by a knife or a-

"He likes to train with swords with the men. Often, his old friends who trained him will arrive and spar, one in particular becomes quite vicious. We end up patching him up for days whilst he sulks that he didn't win."

Rukia scoffed. "It does not sound as though he has aged from the young man in the pictures to me."

Orihime laughed. "He hasn't then, I suppose."

* * *

><p>The wind whipped through the young noble woman's hair as she flexed her leg muscles, riding her horse across the white, slushy fields surrounding her new home, the icy blasts turning her nose pink. And yet, after spending an entire morning and afternoon in the dusty, stuffy castle, she could not yet bring herself to go back inside: inside meant finding something she was not yet sure she wanted to find, and she felt that, with her disadvantage, she would rather prolong the inevitable.<p>

But she knew she would have to turn back soon; the sky was pink, and the set snow was beginning to sparkle as the temperature dropped, and she was sure it would do no one any good for her to catch hypothermia on her second night. Even Sode was letting out a shiver despite her galloping. She considered that she had been out here a while, thinking so deeply she had lost her sense of time, and then that it was no surprise her horse was freezing. She pulled the reins until Sode eventually slowed, and then halted.

Rukia had no idea why she was here, even after 24 hours. Her father had not informed her of what exactly the 'mistake' he had made, only that she was the price to be paid for it. She still had no idea what was expected of her, and she wanted to berate herself for becoming so friendly with a maid, creating an ally that she could lose just as easily.

And there was clearly something wrong here – servants turning to stone, it was like a fairy tale - and yet she still would not let herself believe for a minute it was magic. That was for children. It was make believe. It did _not _exist. There was a logical explanation. It was just hidden deep.

Staring at the encroaching night in the distance, she wondered what her chances of escaping were. A quick glance behind her told her no one was there, and she was yet to meet any hostility during her stay, but she still could feel it, that niggling sensation in the back of her skull. She was being watched, she didn't know who by, but it was giving her more and more of an incentive to run the hell away from here before whatever was staring caught up with her. She felt trapped, like it would catch her whether she stayed or if she ran.

But Rukia knew she had to stay – she was a Kuchiki. She had been sent here by her father. To return would be a dishonour to her family name, and a mark of disrespect. She did not have a choice. And in any case, she would rather die or whatever here than face the consequences back home that would last a life time.

Her mind made up, she abandoned her consideration of departure, and unwilling tugged on the reins until she faced the castle again to return.

* * *

><p>She was obviously been thinking about leaving. She was sat right there on her horse obviously <em>this close <em>to bolting.

If there was once thing Ichigo did not understand, it was women.

Give them a pretty bedroom covered in sparkly crap and dresses in the wardrobes and a girlfriend to talk to and a cat to fawn over, and apparently they still want to fucking leave less than a day later.

_The fuck?_

She quickly whipped her head around and scanned the castle exterior, obviously feeling the eyes planted on the back of her skull; he knew she wouldn't see him from here.

He had to admit though, even as he was internally waging war with her, he still couldn't deny her beauty even from this far away. Her cheekbones were sharp against her onyx hair, and he could even see her nose had gone an adorable scarlet in the cold. He couldn't see her dark eyes properly from this distance, but he knew the amethyst well already.

She turned back around and faced the sunset, obscured slightly by clouds, turning the otherwise clear sky pink, her shoulders a little more slumped.

Ichigo pulled the white towel from around his shoulders and dried his damp hair from his shower with it, laying it across the back of the chair and turning still shirtless to the sight outside. He wouldn't meet her tonight. It was the day before the full moon tomorrow; the last of his now-simple mask would smash during his sleep in the early hours, and she would be a lot less scared to meet him without it, though he would have to leave immediately afterwards. It was much easier to tend to business in the city with humans if you didn't have a mask obscuring your face, giving the impression of evil incarnate. He would return Wednesday evening, perhaps even in time to see her again before he spent the night shackled in the dungeons whilst he transformed once more.

He was very hopeful she wasn't like her father though, or the next ten years would be fucking boring. He was increasingly sure she wouldn't be – he doubted her father would have been seriously considering running away the first day.

She clearly let out a sigh, and steered her horse around and back to the stables in a steady canter, her face a little downcast, before eventually disappearing from his view, obscured by the shape of the castle. He followed suit, and went to find clothes in his drawers.

"She's pretty, huh?"

Ichigo reached down to lift the cat from the foot of his bed by the scruff of its neck and dropped him rather unceremoniously onto the floor. "What have I told you about staying off my bed, Kon?" he asked, as he disappeared back into his bathroom.

"You're just jealous because _I've _seen her in the bath!"

Ichigo's head whipped back around the door frame, and he was momentarily glad for his mask that covered his slightly pink tinged cheeks; they did not however interfere with the force of his glare. The cat took a hint, and quickly scarpered out the door.

Ichigo huffed over the cat's nerve, and a small voice at the back of his head called Kon a 'lucky bastard'.

* * *

><p>"Yes, your father was an... interesting guest, to say the least," Ishida joked, sipping on a glass of wine. "I have never seen the cook in such a fluster than when he sent back a dish three times as uncooked, and when it was finally up to standard took only a small spoonful. I thought she would stomp out and give him a talking to."<p>

Rukia laughed lightly, knowing full well the ways of her father. He was just as fussy back home, though considering his ranking he easily got his way; here, she did not know his social ranking, but it appeared that he was in much less regard.

At the moment, Rukia was dining with Orihime, Ishida, and a few other servants, including a rather tomboyish girl named Tatsuki who was a close friend of Orihime's, and two men named Mizuiro and Keigo – neither of whom Rukia was clear upon of their roles in the household – among others. Usually, Rukia would never sit at a table with servants; in actuality, the servants would never have permission to sit at the nobility's table. And yet they had all sat down as if it was natural, casually, and Rukia couldn't lie – she had never known such a friendly atmosphere outside of Matsumoto and Momo, both of whom she already missed painfully, even if Ishida was the only one she could look at without turning to stone. They had shared stories as the cook had brought out the food and then joined them, and the wine had been passed around the table many times already. Rukia was beginning to feel the effects of the alcohol, becoming more and more woozy.

"I actually thought Ichigo was going to murder him at some points during his stay," Ishida continued, others agreeing as Rukia's head flicked up from her lap to him.

Her eyebrow quirked slightly, and her posture straightened impeccably as she remembered herself. "Ichigo?"

Ishida smirked infinitesimally. "Yes, Ichigo Kurosaki. He's the master here."

Rukia's eyes moved downwards and she nodded slightly, her hand moving to fiddle with the small amethyst pendant she had discovered on her dressing table when she had changed from her riding outfit that afternoon.

"You'll, uh, be meeting him soon." Ishida pushed his glasses up.

She nodded again slightly, but her eyes did not move as she digested the new information.

"He hated your father though, and the feeling was mutual," Ishida told her, smiling. "I'm sure he ground down all his teeth, his jaw was tense as soon as Kuchiki entered the room." Rukia smiled a little more. "It only got worse when they started talking about business."

Rukia took a sharper intake of breath, and her eyes flicked up the master's right hand man. He was still smiling kindly at her, and she frowned slightly as she wondered what dealings the master of this manor could possibly have with her father, a businessman.

Orihime helpfully changed the subject – apparently the snowdrops were beginning to bloom on the north wall – and they would look amazing in the bouquets in the main hall – while Rukia retained her Kuchiki mask and stance. She had let her guard down _again _and these people obviously knew something she did not, and they did not seem to be ready to divulge the information.

She remained quietly until the group began to disperse, when she politely excused herself, dizzy from the wine, let Orihime get her ready to sleep in her bedroom, and finally sink into the silken sheets of her soft bed, the silk lined canopy above her staring back.

* * *

><p>Sleep evaded her for hours. She tossed and turned, had a glass of water, looked out the window to the snow-laden scenery, and eventually pulled on a dressing gown and slippers and ventured onto her balcony.<p>

Her slippered feet crunched slightly on the frozen snow as she padded to the edge. She stared at the view for while; she was not sure how long, but she could track the movements of the moon across the black sky. Snow began to fall lightly, and she knew she should go back in before she began to sneeze, but she stayed still, leaning against the stone railing of her balcony. She felt this was the beginning of a midnight ritual.

Eventually, she took a deep breath, and turned as she watched it disperse before her – but she saw something –

A dark figure was staring at her from the other side of the water, in the shadow of lurking trees. She could not see its face. She pulled her dressing gown closer to her neck, but felt no fear. She saw it shuffle slightly between its feet – as if a shadow could be nervous - and when it looked back up, she smiled a little. She sighed again, smiled lightly as she went back to her bed.

She slept almost as soon as her head hit the pillow, and did not dream.

* * *

><p>AN: Those last few scenes felt kind of off, but it felt like too much of a filler chapter without them, and I wanted to build on the pre-meeting relationship a bit more (oxymoron! Nooo!), so that's why they're there. Even though I don't like them. And I couldn't work out the grammar in some parts. But I thought something should be there. And it's 2:15am and I'm watching My Best Friend's Wedding and I feel a bit manic.

Review please! It only takes a minute (2 if you have to sign in) and telling me what's wrong with it is the most helpful thing in the world.

Telling me what you like puts me in a good mood for the rest of the day, though.

Hopefully see you very soon – updates will be much more often and less sporadic from now!


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